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  breathed. “He’s at Fallen Lakes.”

  Adam nodded. “I’d bet on it.”

  She looked up into the sky. “Think the storm’s going to hold back for us?”

  “No. But we can still get there.” He was looking at the screen of his phone, thumbing through his weather app. “If you’re not driving, that is.”

  She didn’t bother to roll her eyes. They headed back to the ATV in silence. Holly’s mind was whirling. Two days ago she’d been happily hoarding resentment, regret, and a whole bunch of other repressed emotions for Adam. She’d been doing so assuming that he was that same person he’d been all those years ago.

  And in some ways he was. He still could think faster on his feet than anyone she knew. He was strong of body and mind, and he never, ever backed down. But he wasn’t the same wild, dangerous rebel she’d once been so desperately in love with, and so desperate to save. Clearly he still had his ghosts, but he’d grown into a flesh and bones man, and a good one.

  And suddenly she had a new problem. She was seeing Adam, the real Adam, warts and all. No rose-colored glasses this time. And she liked this man.

  A lot.

  She could fall hard for him, if she let herself. Luckily she understood him now and knew he wouldn’t want that. She shouldn’t want it, either. After all, her parents’ marriage had been smoke and mirrors. Hell, her own marriage had been smoke and mirrors. Her entire life had been smoke and mirrors.

  A façade.

  She was good at that, at building unrealistic expectations. But she was over it. She wasn’t living that way anymore. Her eyes were wide open now, and staying that way. Life wasn’t perfect and she knew now it never would be. She had faults, and she wanted to be with someone who revealed his faults right up front. No hidden agenda. Adam fit that bill. Could she allow herself to fall for him again, the man he was now?

  Or maybe the more accurate question was…how could she not?

  * * *

  Adam stopped the ATV about a mile out from the base of the trailhead to Fallen Lakes and turned to Holly.

  She was still wearing his hat, strands of hair framing her face. She pushed her glasses farther up on her nose, and he decided today she looked more like a walking/talking girl-next-door fantasy than the hot librarian. He wisely kept this to himself and pointed to the small plume of smoke ahead, about three hundred feet up.

  She stared at it. “Let’s go.”

  He drove in, stopping at the trailhead, knowing exactly what they’d find at the top. A wide sweep of the entire mountain range and valleys below, a staggering view that made the world look like a painting, and could make a man forget his pain.

  Adam would know. It was the spot where Dell had taken him for “anger therapy.” Every Wednesday for a full year they’d come up here after his postcombat PTSD therapy. They’d sit on the very edge of the cliff, feet hanging off into space, a beer in hand, and yell at the top of their lungs.

  “It’s not a hunting spot,” Holly said, looking up. And up.

  “He’s not hunting.”

  “And you really think it’s him?”

  He gestured to the ATV half hidden beneath a few trees, which had the familiar logo printed on the side: reid ranching.

  Holly nodded, got out of the ATV, shouldered her backpack, and started walking. Fast.

  Adam caught up with her and slowed her to a halt with a hand caught up in her straps, pulling her back up against him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Slowing you down,” he said.

  “Are you kidding? He could be hurt. Why else would he not be answering his phone?”

  “Same reason I never did when I was up there.” When she just looked at him, he let out a breath. “Sometimes a guy just needs to be alone.”

  “A guy?”

  “Anyone. Look, just let me go up there first and see what’s up.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “You want me to stay here while you go ahead.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  Christ. He should have known better. She acted first and thought later, always.

  “What if he’s hurt?” she asked. “Or…?”

  “A dead man can’t make a fire, Holly.”

  “I’m going.”

  He looked into her eyes. Yep, the Reid stubbornness was blazing. “Just give me a few minutes,” he said quietly. “Please.”

  She sighed. “Fine.”

  “I’ll make it quick.”

  “Hmm.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that, but he took the trail with Milo, who was focused and alert. “Seek,” he said, giving the dog permission to go ahead and find the target.

  Milo barked once and was gone.

  Adam followed at a brisk pace and a few minutes later heard the three short, sharp barks signaling that the dog had located his target. When Adam walked the last switchback on the trail, he came out on the plateau, looking out at a heart-stopping view. The air was thinner up here and definitely colder. The snow had fallen heavier, and it was not melting off. There was a two-person tent pitched against the rocks and a small pit fire crackling. Sitting in front of it, holding out a stick with two marshmallows on the end of it sat a beefy, weathered man in his sixties. Donald Reid, in a beach chair on the snow, his two six-month-old golden retrievers at his side.

  A part of Adam recognized the relief. He’d been fairly confident Donald hadn’t gotten himself into trouble. But the truth was, the guy was getting older—not that Reid would admit the weakness.

  And yet another part of Adam, a bigger part, was pissed off. Donald wasn’t a man used to thinking of others first. Hell, neither was Adam for that matter, but all he could see was Holly’s face over the past few days, and the worry and fear that had never left it.

  Donald should have—could have—saved her a lot of stress.

  “Adam,” Donald said in surprise, rising. He groaned and stretched his back, his bones creaking. Then he shook his head and sat back down. “Damn.”

  “You okay?”

  “Hanging in there. What the hell are you doing up here, son?”

  Donald was a self-made man, and as such was often cavalier and self-centered, but once upon a time he’d been nice to a punk-ass kid for no reason other than Adam had been friends with Grif. The cranky bastard meant a lot to Adam. “I’m here looking for you,” Adam said.

  Thing One and Thing Two had rushed toward Adam, respectfully sitting at his feet to receive their praise for being such wonderful specimens. Adam bent low and hugged them both. Then they bounded around together in a happy pack with Milo just as Holly’s voice rang out across the clearing.

  “Dad!”

  Donald turned in surprise toward her. She was in the same spot Adam had stood a moment before, stark relief all over her face. “You’re okay?” She came closer and looked him over. “You are.” She let out a breath and then pushed him so that he fell back into his chair. “When you’re okay and not dead, you answer your phone, do you hear me?”

  “Of course I hear you. The people of China can hear you.” He was frowning. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be okay?”

  “Gee, Dad, I don’t know.” Holly’s pale features were quickly filling in with a ruddiness in her cheeks that Adam knew was caused by adrenaline and fury. “Maybe because you didn’t return a phone call or text for days?”

  Donald shrugged but didn’t have the good grace to seem even slightly apologetic. “I lost my phone.”

  Holly looked horrified at this. “You lost your phone? What if something had happened to you out here?”

  Donald was starting to look insulted. “Like what?”

  Holly bent and poked him in the chest. Reid love. They didn’t hug and kiss—they poked.

  “Like anything!” Holly said.

  “What are you talking about? I’m perfectly healthy at the moment.”

  “Perfectly healthy men don’t just vanish into thin air,” she said. “They have reasons for scaring their family half to de